


Visiting Hours

by InyriAscending



Category: Mass Effect
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-15
Updated: 2012-12-15
Packaged: 2017-11-21 04:00:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,467
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/593208
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/InyriAscending/pseuds/InyriAscending
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kaidan’s nearing the end of his hospital stay after the incident on Mars, but there’s one thing hindering his recovery. Luckily, Shepard has just what he needs. For aelice: LiveJournal Mass Effect Holiday Gift Exchange, 2012.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Visiting Hours

Huerta Memorial seems busier, louder, more crowded every time she visits him, with cots lining the corridors and makeshift triage units set up in waiting rooms. The war pushes ever closer and still, somehow, Shepard feels at peace here.

No, not somehow. She knows why.

When the doors to Kaidan’s room slide open his hospital bed is empty, although the sheets are rumpled and a half-empty glass of water sits on the bedside table. For a moment Shepard wonders if she was mistaken, if he’s already been discharged. The whiskey’s still on his windowsill, though, along with a drooping balloon and the now-wilted flowers she’d brought last week.

“Kaidan?” She knocks on the doorframe.

Someone taps her shoulder and she nearly drops the package she carries, the slick metal amp case slipping through her fingers; she stoops, barely catching it before it hits the floor. _Jumpy, Shepard?_ The red bow she’d decorated it with comes off in her hand, the adhesive useless when she tries to reattach it.

“I’m so sorry, Commander!” The asari standing behind her is nearly purple by the time Shepard turns around, her fringe and flushed cheeks a near-match to the color of the orderly’s uniform she wears. “I didn’t mean to- I mean, I only…” The girl stumbles on the words, then clasps her hands in front of her stomach, takes a deep breath and continues. “Are you looking for Major Alenko, ma’am? He’s in the therapy hall.”

Shepard nods. “I am, but I can come back later if-“

The orderly shakes her head rapidly, already moving down the hallway, and beckons her onward. “No, no, please. Follow me. He asked for any visitors to be brought down.” She shrugs. “I think he’s planning to stay there all day, ma’am.”

_That sounds like Kaidan._ Even on the old _Normandy_ he could never sit still, always pacing and tapping his fingers on his console, walking back and forth to the mess for sandwiches and ration bars so often she could track the hours passing by the sound of his footsteps. (She misses it, now. Her quarters are lonely, the fish and hamster and photograph poor substitutes for conversation and company.)

“Well, then, lead the way.”

She’s never been to this part of the hospital before- never been a patient at Huerta at all, in point of fact, despite all her injuries. The common rooms are cheerier than the main ward, with posters on the walls and up-tempo music piped through the comms; Shepard recognizes a soldier she’d seen on Kaidan’s unit, now up and walking on a gleaming prosthetic leg. The asari girl points to a table in the far corner, then turns to answer a shout from across the hall.

She’d recognize his profile from a thousand yards away.

More of his bandages are gone, today, uncovering a new scar winding angrily from his temple to the outer corner of his right eye. His hair’s gotten longer, too, hanging shaggy and dark over the last remaining bandage covering the empty port at the base of his skull.

Kaidan’s hands move across a flat-topped table, selecting pieces of what looks to be a disassembled pistol- probably a Carnifex, from the shape of the muzzle- and piecing them together. After a scant few moments he sets the completed weapon down and turns, looking back over his shoulder toward the therapist tapping absently at her omni-tool.

Shepard waves. “Hey, you. Bad time?”

“Just relearning how to use my hands.” He grins, and beckons her over. “I could use a break, anyway. I’ve put this gun together thirty-one times since breakfast- I’ll beat Ash’s old record at this rate.”

She hooks a nearby stool with one foot, pulling it toward his table. “You look good, Kaidan.”

“I feel a lot better. Doc thinks I’ll be ready to start Spectre training in a few weeks, barring any further setbacks.”

“You’re definitely taking the position, then?” She slips the case and ribbon into her pocket and sits, resting her elbows on the table and tucking a stray piece of hair behind one ear.

Kaidan shrugs. “It seems like the best fit, you know? Unless you’d be jealous-” he nudges her arm.

“Of the second human Spectre?” Shepard snorts. “I beat you to the punch, Alenko. Even if you do outrank me now.”

“Yeah. True.” He grins. “Don’t worry, I won’t make you salute. Besides, there’s one big problem.” Kaidan lifts one hand, sliding a finger under the bandage covering his neck. “My amp’s totally dead.”

She knew, of course- she’d helped detach the charred remnants of it in the SR-2’s medbay. “Just the amp, or the port too?”

“The port’s fine, but with no amp I feel like I’m back at Brain Camp trying to levitate pencils.” When he shuts his eyes the Carnifex rattles on the tabletop, shifting a few millimeters before he stops and rubs his temples. “See? That’s all I’ve got. Something the cyborg did during that fight blew the circuits, and even the quarian techs down in Zakera claim they can’t repair it. It was hard to find L2 hardware even before the war started.”

“And now?”

He raps the pistol’s grip with his knuckles. “I’m working on weapons training for a reason. There’s not a single L2 amp to be had from here to- well, Omega’s off-limits now, I guess.”

“Funny, that. Catch.” She pulls the little metal case free of her pocket and tosses it toward Kaidan’s head; he reaches up and snatches it out of the air. “I did wonder why I had to go halfway to geth space to find this… oh, wait.” The bow’s crumpled, but balances well enough atop his hair. “There. Appropriately festive.”

Opening the latch, Kaidan lifts the wire-and-metal construct from its case and tilts his head to inspect it, losing his bow in the process. “Is this a-”

“Yup.” Shepard nods.

“And you-”

“I figured I owed you a birthday present.” She reaches across, pulls the bandage off his head with a few strands of hair still clinging to the tape. “Or a Christmas gift or two, at least. I think we missed a few years.”

Kaidan shakes his head, setting the amp back into its case. “This must have cost a fortune. I can’t accept this, Shepard.”

“Y’know what the one good thing about working for Cer- my previous employer was?” Before he can close the case she slips her hands around his wrists, holding them in place. “Basically unlimited resources. And the really, really good thing?”

He pushes against her but, unaugmented as he is, she’s stronger.

“I’m guessing it wasn’t the politics?”

Her grin is wolfish as she relaxes her grip. “I left before they could take them back, so I had a little money to burn. Turn around.”

“Shepard, seriously-”

“That’s an order, Spectre. Like I said, I missed a few years.”

He eyes her, sidelong. “I think you had an excuse.”

“I got better,” she says, one hand on the back of his chair. “And the world didn’t stop while I was gone. Please, Kaidan.”

Kaidan swivels away from her, bowing his head and brushing his hair upward; she lifts the amp in one hand and leans in close to fit it to the port, near enough that his hair moves with her breath. (He smells clean, like coffee and soap and some spice she can’t place- she thought it was cologne, once, but perhaps it’s just him.) It slots in easily, wires activating and the thin metal plate settling into the hollow space designed for it.

“Is it working?” She straightens.

He tilts his head right and left, closes his eyes for a moment. “I think so- whoa.”

Kaidan’s barrier flares bright coruscant blue in the moments before he quells it, the light spreading across the room as the other patients turn their heads to look.

“It needs a little calibration but, man, it’s got power.”

“That’s the idea.” Shepard blinks to clear the glare from her eyes. “Can’t have the second human Spectre embarrassing me out there.”

He opens his mouth to reply, then closes it and laughs as she leans into him, bumping her shoulder against his (the way they used to do, sitting beside each other in the mess, when she’d steal the last piece of pie and promise that next time he could have it, and then the next day would do it again).

“Wouldn’t dream of it.” Kaidan pushes back from the table and stretches, arms overhead and knuckles cracking. “You know, Shepard, if I’m going to practice with this thing I’m going to need way more food. You want to grab some lunch?”

“Mmm. Hospital food.” She grins and falls in step beside him as they start down the hall together. “My favorite.”


End file.
